Taste
by Kuria Dalmatia
Summary: Aaron knows what Reid's skin will taste like. Will he give into temptation to confirm it? - pre-slash


**Title:** Taste

**Author:** Kuria Dalmatia

**Rating/Warnings:** PG-13

**Characters/Pairing:** Hotch/Reid

**Summary:** Aaron _knows_ what Reid's skin will taste like. Will he give into temptation to confirm it?

ARCHIVING: my LJ and FFNet account... anyone else? Please ask first.

Feedback always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: The Mark Gordon Company, ABC Studios and CBS Paramount Network Television own Criminal Minds. Salut! I just took them out to play and I promise put them back when I'm done. I'm not making any profit just trying to get these images out of my head.

COMMENTS: Inspired by a photo on Tumblr

/***/

It's his neck that does Aaron in.

Slender. Elegant.

So _goddamn_ kissable.

Some would think that Reid would taste sweet, like honey or pure sugar. Floral, like a woman.

Although he's never indulged in that particularly fantasy (or _any_ fantasy involving Reid), Aaron knows better. He's smelled Reid, close up. Personal. Reid's scent mixed with everything from sweat to coffee to gunpowder to death itself.

Pungent.

And smell has a hell of a lot to do with taste. Therefore, Reid won't taste sweet and pure.

No.

He will taste of sharpness and tang and sourness and … and _Reid_.

Aaron knows it.

He _knows_ it. His _entire_ _body_ knows it.

Aaron inhales and exhales. There are parts of his body which refuse to cooperate with the directive: _Not __here.__Not __now_. Clearly, those parts of his body are demanding, _Why__ not?_

And really, sadly … _Why __not?_

"Hotch?" Reid inquires. It's not the high-pitched, hesitant tone that Aaron expects to hear. No. This is sharp and direct and _what__ the__ fuck?_

It takes everything in Aaron's repertoire to reply with, "What?" using that command tone that scares the brawniest men into mental corners.

Reid's confused look morphs into a small, almost imperceptible smirk. It's brief, like a flash of lightening.

Either Aaron gets the message or he doesn't.

He does.

Christ.

_Has __this __invitation __always __been __there?_ Aaron wonders as he blinks.

Reid pushes the hotel room door open. The hotel room they are sharing. The hotel room they are sharing because Fate has decided that tonight is the night that Aaron shares a hotel room with Reid.

God only knows how Aaron looks, if Reid can read the longing and the desire and everything that Aaron has kept bottled up for four years and counting.

Reid enters and walks to the middle of the room, Aaron stumbling in six steps behind him. The younger agent keeps his back to Aaron as he stretches and then rolls his head to the side, exposing that pale skin that just begs for Aaron to _touchkisscaressmaulbitesoothe_.

The door clicks shut behind them.

Reid glances over his shoulder. There's amusement in his voice. "You'd better lock that."

Aaron stares. He finds himself turning around, walking to the door, opening it to put the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the handle, closing it and then doing the deadbolt and latch chain. When he faces Reid again, the younger agent has tilted his head more, his hair swept to one side.

Reid drops his shoulder, which make his neck even more alluring. His voice is teasing. Low. Wicked. "What are you waiting for?"

A plethora of excuses roll through Aaron's mind. None of them stop him from moving forward until he's standing directly behind Reid. His own hands are inches from grasping Reid's arms to pull the younger man back.

There's a joke about a vampire in there somewhere, but Aaron can't focus because he's staring at Reid's neck. He wants to ask, _Are __you __sure?_ but he can't get the words out. He's afraid if he speaks, all the excuses will come rushing out of his mouth and they will crush this moment.

Reid is perfectly still. His breathing is slow, even.

_Patient_, Aaron thinks. _He's __being __so __patient __with __you. __Indulging __your __insecurities_. Which is weird, of course, because Aaron believes he does an excellent job of hiding his insecurities especially ones like this. He has to. _But__ his __patience__ will __only __last __so __long_. Aaron knows this. He knows that Reid will never offer himself like this again.

He leans forward, settling his shaking hands lightly on Reid's arms. He licks his lips. He's breathing so hard that the collar of Reid shirt flutters with each exhale.

"Go ahead," Reid whispers, his tone verges on an order.

Aaron closes his eyes. He presses his lips against Reid's pale skin. He snakes his tongue out.

He _tastes_.

And it's everything and then some that Aaron has fantasized about.

It's _divine._

#####


End file.
